SOUTH PARK: Something Pumpkin Spice This Way Comes
by Tharpdevenport
Summary: There is evil afoot in South Park. Foul smelling evil. It's everywhere.
1. Chapter 1

It's passed the bewitching hour in South Park, with all souls a slumber. From the dark and still woods on the outskirts in an area transverse only by hunters and young minds on the hunt for adventure, a singular head light illuminates the cold air in the night. Smoke, like a ghostly continuously rising apparition, bellows upwards into the wind which has started to churn. The silhouette of a black train is made clear from the blue moonlight. It steams forward and passed our vantage points, with rattling box car after rattling old wooden box car. Lit and empty passenger cars pass, followed by an open side display of an old box. After some traveling it comes to a sudden halt behind a moderate grocery store. The lights suddenly cut on in the store as lightning strikes around the area of the store.

Stan sleeps in his room, with the only source of light coming down from the moon. A distant train whistle can be heard. Stan tosses briefly and lies on a side, still sleeping.

.

The sun bathes the town of South Park in beautiful shades of orange, filling the exciting air of spirit with warmth and twinkles of glowing glitter on that Saturday morning.

Kyle runs downstairs.

"Hey mom, I'm gonna go play with my friends!"

"Kyle, bubula, you haven't eaten your breakfa-"

The front door slams.

Gerald replies, "He'll be find – he's a boy."

"Oh, I just worry. Oh my – this new coffee flavor is delicious."

.

Kyle runs through the town with Stan and Kenny. His voice speaks over the action, "First of all, it was October – a rare month for boys. Full of cold winds, long nights, dark promises. The days get shorter, the shadows lengthen. The wind warms in such a way you want to run forever threw the fields, because up ahead ten thousand pumpkins lie waiting to be cut…"

They stop at a large patch.

"Dude – look at all the pumpkins!" Stan exclaims.

"Awesome! I'm gonna carve a dick in mine," says Kyle.

"Hey, this one over here is shaped like a dick," Stan says.

Eric walks over with a red wagon in tow.

"Heuw, luk aht twis one!" says Kenny, his voice muffled.

"Awesome!" says Stan.

Kyle ads, "It's as big as your head, Kenny!"

"Excuse me," Eric says to a couple blocking the wide path into the pumpkin patch, "Excuse me!"

"Um, this pumpkin spice latte from Starbucks is excellent," says the husband.

"Really?" asks the wife.

"Hey! Get the fuck out of the way!" Eric yells, finally opting to simply shove his way through the oblivious couple.

"Eric, over here – Kenny found a big one!" says Kyle.

Eric drags the wagon over toward Kenny as he and Stan roll the pumpkin out of the patch on its side.

"Sweet. I don't know, Kenny, that pumpkin's awfully big; you might need like a lay-a-way monthly plan, that way in 30 years you might own it. 'cause you're so poor."

"Fwuk yu."

Kenny then goes and helps Stan with the pumpkin he selected.

"What took you so long? I thought you said you were going to leave ten minutes earlier so we'd meet you here," says Kyle.

"I did but I got stuck behind the Doritos truck," Eric replies.

"You have heard of walking around obstacles before, right?" Kyle retorts.

"I tried but the closer I got the more it reeked of pumpkin spice."

Stan and Kenny stop the next pumpkin at the wagon.

"Don't be ridiculous – there's no such thing as pumpkin spice Doritos," says Kyle.

"Whatever – I couldn't stand the smell," says Eric.

"Yeah, pumpkin spice is okay for like five minutes but I'd rather smell my gym socks then that," says Stan.

"I like the way it smells. I've been thinking about buying a pumpkin-spice scented candle," says Kyle.

"Mwee touw," Kenny jumps in.

"You guys are out of your minds. I fart more tolerable odors after eating KFC," says Eric.

"We'll just take your word for that fart huffer," Stan says as he loads his pumpkin.

"All right, pull, Eric," Kyle says after Stan joins him and Kenny climbs in to keep the pumpkins from falling out.

"The point is, I had to wait for the truck to turn off before I could safely proceed," Eric says as he pulls and the others push.

"It's only pumpkin spice, not mosquito spray," says Kyle.

Eric replies, "Probably kills a mosquito just as dead."

"Well, I like the way it smells," Kyle says.

"Mosquito spray?" Stan asks, confused.

"No, pumpkin spice."

"Same difference," says Eric.

Eric stops pulling once they reach Ned and Jimbo, who are sitting in lawn chairs with beers in hand from a cooler.

"Whoa, that's quite a haul, boys," says Jimbo.

"Yeah, uncle Jimbo, Kenny's got a really big one!"

"Whoa, sounds like he's going to be really popular with the girls."

"I don't get it," Stan replies.

"Oh, that's okay. That'll be eight dollars boys; that includes the uncle dollar discount."

"Thanks!" says Kyle.

"Yeah, thanks uncle Jimbo. Hey, what's that you're eating?"

"These?" he stops munching on a cookie, "Why, these are Keebler Fudge Strips. Pumpkin spice flavored Fudge Strips."

"Oh,," Stan says, handing Jimbo the money.

"Take care, boys!" Jimbo waves as they push the wagon toward the trail exit.

Kyle's voice talks over the scene of them leaving, "Second of all, it had been such a promising week; each new beautiful day in turn promised another. The world was ours and we relished it. At such precious rare moments as these we paid not mind to the danger ahead, which wafted in the air in the breeze upon the leaves and the faces of the innocent."

.

Stan sets his pumpkin by the front door of his house and opens the door.

"Bye you guys!" Stan shouts.

"Bye, Stan!" Kyle calls back as he and Kenny wave.

The load lightened and on flatter ground, Kenny hops out to help push.

"Hey, dad," says Stan as he enters.

"Hey, son," Randy says, walking out of the kitchen with his beer dispensing hat on.

"I thought the game wasn't until tomorrow."

"Yeah, it's tomorrow. Why?" asks Randy.

"Well, your drinking beer like it was Sunday. From a hat."

"Stan, beer is for all days ending in a 'y',, not just on footballs Sunday, AKA: The holy day."

"Oh, okay. God, what's that smell?" asks Stan. He uses his right hand to waft away the repugnant odor.

"Oh, your mom is cooking again," sipping beer from the helmet straws.

Stan walks into the kitchen, "What are you cooking?"

"Oh, Stan – I didn't even hear you enter. You see this?"

"What is it?" he asks.

"Pumpkin spice pie."

"Oh. It smells awful."

"You know, I figured: What would make the same boring old pie crust come to life? And it hit me – delicious pumpkin spice! I didn't even realize I had any – it was just there."

"You're not high, are you?"

"Oh! I feel like chef Emeril Lagasse himself!"

"Oookaayyy…" Stan backs out of the kitchen.

.

Shadows move across the town as the bewitching hour nears, from the clouds above. All is quiet in the still blue night. Stan slumbers peacefully, sketches of pumpkin faces nearby. Kyle cradles a pillow. Eric lies quietly. And Kenny tosses.

In a location unknown, people fully clothed in black from head to toe, stare up high where a large pumpkin moves forward. The face splits asunder from the center vertically and peels away to reveal a giant old-fashioned clock face ticking nearly upon midnight. As the minute and hour hands join, in unison the individuals fill the room with a low bellowing hum. The singular bell cloche rings loudly.

Randy, watching TV late on the living room couch, falls asleep.

Officer Barbrady, patrolling, falls asleep and as he does, his squad car shuts down.

Various patrons in the bar suddenly fall sleep.

People cleaning buildings and stocking supplies like the large grocery store, suddenly fall asleep.

Every man, woman and child in South Park goes to sleep, and every car on, cuts off and rolls to a stop.

Inside the grocery store people in all black enter, carrying boxes. Stopping in various isles they open and start stocking the contents: pumpkin spice Jell-O, pumpkin spice marshmallows, pumpkin spice Doritos, and other pumpkin spice products. One of the group leaves an unopened box by a stock clerk.

Inside the Starbucks the pumpkin spice latte dispenser is refilled.

At the bar bottles of pumpkin spice beer are left behind.

And at the homes of various town residents, pumpkin spice products are left.

As quickly as they came, the mysterious individuals vanish.

The giant clock ticks on 12:01. The humming stops and the pumpkin face covering closes back up as the whole clock moves backwards into the wall.

People start waking back up. Cats cut back on and start moving again.

Barbrady wakes up, "Huh? 12:01? Oh, God, I've been abducted again!"

Kenny continues to toss and turn in his sleep.

.

…

The glow and warmth of the early-morning orange sun envelops the land, signaling a pleasant day of friendship and potential life-long memories ahead. All one had to do was but to grasp upon a ray of sunshine.

Eric wakes up. He stretches and gets out of bed. He takes off his pajamas and puts on his familiar red shirt, then pulls his hat over his head. Once his shoes are on he makes his way downstairs and into the kitchen. He pulls out a chair and climbs up into it. He looks around.

"Breakfast."

He looks around again, impatiently.

" _Breakfast!_ " he demands loudly."Oh, just a minute, puffy-kins – I'm in the bathroom," she calls out.

"Fine! I have to do everything around here," he gets down and pushes the chair to a cabinet, opens it, and gets some cereal, then pushes the chair back and goes for the milk in the fridge. He climbs back up the chair and puts both items on the table.

Liane walks into the kitchen as Eric pours milk into his cereal, "Sorry about that."

"Bacon!" he demands.

"I'll fry you up some bacon right now."

Eric fiddles with his phone in one hand while eating cereal with the other.

Thinking, Eric looks across the table and abruptly stops eating the cereal, "Oh, man, sweet – Oreos!" he leans over drags the package to himself, quickly ripping it open and cramming an Oreo into his mouth. After a split second of chewing he turns his head to a side and spits it out onto the kitchen floor, "What the _fuck?!_ "

"Eric, you know you shouldn't curse," his mother says.

"It tastes line Nanci Pelosy's asshole!"

"Oh," placing a plate down for the cooking bacon, "that's a special new holiday flavor."

"Nanci Pelosey's asshole has a holiday?"

"Pumpkin spice flavor!"

"Fuck!" he pushes himself away from the kitchen table and hops down and quickly exits the kitchen. He runs upstairs quickly to his bathroom and grabs the mouth wash. After repeated vigorous swishing and spitting and repeating, he then brushes his teeth.

"Bacon's ready, Eric!" he hears her call out.

"Oh, fuck – I can still taste it. What manner of fuckery is this?!"

.

Stan, Kenny, Kyle and Eric walk about town. Eric furiously uses dental floss to try and remove any lasting bits of the pumpkin spice Oreos.

"What should we go to today?" Stan asks them.

"I don't know – seems like such a nice day to waste doing nothing," says Kyle.

"I know – let's go play around in the WalMart ruins," Stan suggests.

"Cool!" says Kyle.

"Ahwsum!" Kenny exclaims, voice muffled.

"Cartman, you keep flossing that much and you'll create tooth ravines. Why are you flossing anyway?"

"I'm trying to get this fucking pumpkin spice Oreos flavor out of my mouth!"

"Why'd you even buy them?"

"I didn't – my mom did."

"My mom has pumpkin spice crap, too," says Stan.

"It won't go away! It's like Mother Nature is violating my mouth!"

Stan takes the dental floss dispenser and reads it aloud, "Pumpkin-spice flavored dental floss."

"Son of a bitch!" he grabs it and throws it off into the bushes.

"Oh, come on, it's not that bad," says Kyle.

"Why is it so popular? I don't even know anybody who buys it," asks Stan.

"Well, I like it," Kyle reiterates.

"So, you buy pumpkin spice products?"

"Well … no," Kyle replies.

"See!"

"Hello, boys," they see a scruffy stranger with disheveled hair and tattered clothing approaching them.

"Wait – aren't we supposed to do something?" Kyle asks.

"Like what?" asks Stan.

"Something that rhymes: something something stranger danger something or other."

"I don't even remember how that goes," says Stan.

"Ah, too late – stranger's already here," says Kyle.

The man speaks up, "Can you feel it in the air, boys?"

"It's not dirty, is it?" asks Eric.

"Hellfire storm's a comin'. An electrical storm."

"Look mister, if you're trying to sell something, we already blew most our allowances on pumpkins."

"It'll clean your streets and wash away your pumpkin spice scented troubles."

"Just gives us the sale's pitch so we can say no," says Eric.

The stranger continues, "Some folks need special protection. I can sniff out which of your homes is in danger."

Eric comments, "That's just Kenny's house: it's dilapidated and is pretty rank."

"Did you say pumpkin spice?" Stan inquires.

"Shhh – can you smell?" the man asks.

"Pumpkin spice? That's Eric," says Kyle.

"Must be that old wind again. Can't you smell it? Your home is in need of protection," to Stan. He then pulls out a long metal rod with a crystal in one end, from a holster strapped to his back.

"Sweet, dude!" Kenny says.

The man hands it to Stan, "You just go right home and tell your father that Mr. Rod Fury of the long rods presents his compliments. And your house is in very urgent need of protection, too," he then speaks to Eric.

"Okay," Eric says to the rest of them, "We're buying these stupid rods with the fake crystals in them so this weird guy will go away. Plus we can probably break things with them and make lightsaber noises."

"How much?" Kyle asks.

"Ah, how much you got there?" asks Rod.

"Well…" suddenly a five dollar bill blows passed Kyle; he picks it up, "Wow – check it out, five bucks."

Rod replies, "What a coincidence, five smackers ought to do it."

"Here you go," says Kyle.

Rod hands out the rods, "Just put 'em aside your chimneys. When the time comes, they'll do the rest."

"Bye-bye suspiciously weird and disheveled stranger!" says Stan.

"Good-bye, boys!" the man calls back to them as he continues to walk toward town.

"Here you go, Kenny," Kyle hands Kenny one of the long metal rods.

"Oh, cool," Kenny says, examining the rod. He stops when he realizes they're all watching him. "Whut?"

"Nothing," says Kyle.

"Yeah, just, ah, waiting for something to happen," says Stan.

"Wike whut?" asks Kenny.

"Oh, I don't know…" Stan trails off.

Thunder rumbles in the distance. They quickly step away from Kenny.

"Whut?" Kenny asks again.

.

Kyle enters his home.

"Hey mom, hey dad!"

"Hey, Kyle, did you have fun?"

"I sure did," he walks to the kitchen, "Have you seen the long ladder? I need … what is that smell?"

"Oh, bubula, it's pumpkin spice flavored bacon to go with our pumpkin spice dinner from Chipolte."

"I don't get it; why would anybody put pumpkin spice in bacon? That's like adding Pop Tarts to cake – the cake is fine the way it is."

"Well, Kyle, pumpkin spice is the spice of life."

"That was a very confusing non-answer to a question not asked. Anyway, I need to put this giant rod up aside the chimney."

"What's it do?"

"Some guy said it will help protect us. We're apparently in need of protection."

"It's behind the storage shed. Get your father to help. Being Jewish these days what with the beheadings and stabbings, we could use all the protection we can get."

"Cool," he goes to find his dad.

.

Midnight once again draws near in South Park. The large pumpkin once again moves outward and splits open to reveal the decoratively carved hands and stylized Roman numerals. When it strikes twelve, the people in black once again hum. Around town residents yet again fall asleep, if not already so; cars cut off, printing presses stop, and other machinery ceases. Here and there the mysterious people come out to place pumpkin spice products. One switches out a box of M&M's for pumpkin spice flavored ones. They vanish from whence they came as 12:01 arrives. The humming stops, the clock is hidden as the large pumpkin face closes, and people come to and cars and machinery start back up.


	2. Chapter 2

The school bell rings. All the students make their way to the cafeteria. Stan, Kenny, Kyle and Eric get in line.

Stan speaks, "I think pumpkin spice is starting to become a pandemic. My mother has it, uncle Jimbo has it, I can smell it coming from the neighbor's house, and several kids around here reek of it."

"And my mom," Eric adds.

"Mine, too," Kenny also replies.

"My mom was cooking pumpkin spice bacon to go with pumpkin spice Chipolte she ordered."

"Sick! Not only do you bleed out your ass for a week, it smells like pumpkin spice the while time!" Eric says.

Kyle then comments, "Perfectly good bacon. I just don't get it."

They each pick up a lunch tray as they near the cafeteria serving area.

Eric then says, "Hitler liked ps. It's true, I heard it on the History Channel."

Butters speaks up to a kid behind Eric, "Why, ah, I love pumpkin spice! Tastes so pumpkin-y and spicerific!"

"Butters, shut up," Eric says annoyed.

They finally reach the serving area.

"Hehlow there heedren."

"Hey chef – wait, what?" Kyle says surprised.

"Holy crap, what the fuck?" says Stan.

A woman all covered in black, even a black burka – leaving only a slit for her eyes – is on the other side serving the kids.

"Agh! Terrorist! Kenny, kill her!" Eric hides behind Kenny.

"Who are you?" Stan asks.

"Iy hem cheff."

"Okay, but none of us are Jewish!" says Stan.

"Tewdais spashell eezs phlegmbury steak and buttered noohdles, and a choize of green bean casserole or vegetablephlegm medley."

"That doesn't come with a side of phlegm, does it?" Eric mocks.

"Eit dohz noht."

"All right, but if any of this is poisoned and kills me, I swear I'll come back and kick you in the camel balls!"

"Isn't there anything without pumpkin spice?" Stan asks.

"Meehilk," she slams a carton of low-fat milk down.

"I'll just take a milk," Stan replies.

"Me, too," says Eric.

"Surprise me," says Kyle.

Kenny then replies, "Wohn ov ewvyee wing."

As Kyle takes his tray, Eric looks on in horror, "Oh, God," he looks quickly up at the chef, "not that I believe in God," he looks back down at Kyle's tray, "now I know why people in Africa eat bugs."

They walk to their usual table and sit down. Stan jams the milk straw into the container.

Eric searches his pockets, then pulls out something, "Oh!" he exclaims, "Thank you, thank you … a Starburst. My lunch is now officially bigger than a Michelle Obama school lunch."

Stan speaks up, "This sucks. And it fucking smells like pumpkin spice in the whole cafeteria."

"Well, I think it smells good in here. Right, Kenny?" Kyle asks Kenny.

"Um hum," Kenny answers Kyle.

"Kenny doesn't count; Kenny's like the one percent margin of error," Eric comments.

Kyle replies to Eric, "It's probably more likely _you're on_ the margins, fat ass. Oh, a pumpkin-spice flavored cookie. Cool."

Eric looks at Kyle trying the cookie, "You know who wished for pumpkin spice cookies? No one fucking ever."

Stan adds, "Exactly, it's not like it's a good logical choice like chocolate and peanut butter. It's adding perfectly good spice to the part of the pumpkin millions of people carve out and trash each year. They don't even give starving kids in China the guts, yet they expect us to pay for it."

"Well, it's better than this sea salt caramel craze going on," says Kyle.

They all exclaim, "Huh!"

Eric shouts, "Blasphemy!"

"No! No, no, no, no – not only does caramel _taste_ good, but it smells good. That's like trying to say Luck Charms is crap and plain Cheerios is not. Everybody knows Lucky Charms is the superior cereal, even the Cheerios company does – that's why they entice you with about a dozen non-plain flavors," says Stan.

"Oh, come on! Sea salt caramel is fine, but do we really need it in cupcakes?" Kyle asks.

The three fire back in unison, " _Yes!_ "

Stan then speaks solo, "I'm sure a hundred years ago there was a guy who thought chocolate didn't need peanut butter."

"Some evil bastard. Jewish no doubt," Eric adds.

Kyle replies in disbelief, "Really? We're having an argument over food combos spanning a century? A hundred years ago they weren't even sure what the human brain was! They thought it was like a sponge that heat escaped threw, cooling off the body. But you're right – let's argue over who's taste in food combinations is superior."

"Dude, you like pumpkin spice – clearly it's ours. There's folks who munch on lettuce, then there's folks who munch on potato chips," says Stan to Kyle.

"You know what," Kyle gets up, "I'm gonna eat with butters."

Kyle picks up his tray and walks away.

"Wow," says Eric.

"I know," Stan says, still pissed off.

Eric then says, "He's gonna go eat with Butters of his own free will."

…

The school bell rings, signaling the end to the school day. The kids dump what books they don't need into their lockers and then make their way to the buses. Kyle joins the three.

"Hey, Kyle," says Kenny.

"Hey."

"I have a theory: you see so many people with pumpkin spice products, right?" says Stan.

"I guess. Why?" asks Kyle.

"Has anybody ever offered you any treats with pumpkin spice flavoring?"

"No."

"Or gifted you some pumpkin spice product like a candle?"

"No, I can't say they ever have," Kyle answers.

"I believe deep down inside they don't like it either, that's why they don't ever offer you any," says Stan.

"That's kind of a stretch," says Kyle.

"So is a gallon tub of pumpkin spice ice cream."

They exit the school for the buses.

"Dude, nobody's forcing you to buy it," says Kyle.

Stan answers, "Nobody's forcing me to buy bottled urine either, but that doesn't mean I'd want it on the shelves."

"You know what? I … I can't," Kyle says, stopping short of getting in the bus with them.

"Come on, or the bus is going to leave without you," says Stan.

"That's okay, I'm gonna walk home."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay," Stan turns and the door shuts.

Kyle starts walking home. The bus eventually passes him.

As he passes by some large bushes a bit from school, he sees the teenagers on their bikes smoking.

"What are you looking at? Keep walkin' or I'll shove this pumpkin spice cigarette up your nose holes!"

Kyle eventually makes his way into the main shopping area of town. He perks up at the odor of pumpkin spice from nearby restaurant hits his nose. Kyle looks in a window of the KFC.

"Pumpkin-spice flavored Kentucky Grilled Chicken?"

The doors to a grocery store slide open as Kyle enters. He smiles as he sees pumpkin spice bread and pastries on a stand not far from the entrance. He passes by sale items such as pumpkin spice Doritos and pumpkin spice Pringles.

"Pumpkin spice Peeps? That doesn't even make any sense."

Kyle turns into the cereal and candy isle.

"No, pumpkin spice Cheerios? Pumpkin spice Captain Crunch?"

He turns and sees pumpkin spice Pop Tarts.

"You're kidding me," he coughs a little.

Then he sees pumpkin spice Skittles. Then pumpkin-spice flavored Brach's Candy Corn.

He shakes his right hand passed his nose to clear the air, "It's so strong," he coughs, "Pumpkin spice Rice Krispies?"

He again turns while going further down the isle.

"Hostess pumpkin spice cupcakes? Why?"

He coughs some more and turns.

"Pumpkin spice Pringles? Really?"

Now he's pulling his shirt over his nose while coughing and turning.

"Pumpkin-spice flavored M&M's? NO!" he runs out the isle and then turns into the next one to make his way back to the front of the store.

He looks on horrified, "Pumpkin spice Listerine?" and he then looks to the other side to shield his eyes from it, only to catch something else, "Pumpkin spice condoms? Pumpkin spiceTampax! **AGH!** " he bolts, cutting shoppers off and running out of the store. He stops and coughs repeatedly, while spitting and blowing mucus out his nostrils.

…

Eric, Stan and Kenny wait at the school bus stop, chatting as they do so.

Eric speaks, "And when I checked the mail, it smelled like pumpkin spice. It's worse than somebody taking a shit in there; the mailman's addiction might last for who knows how long, but at least the shit happens once."

Kyle walks over, looking despondent.

"Exactly, yet people must be buying it. Is there some big pumpkin spice Juggernaut we somehow missed?" Stan says.

"If pumpkin spice was a person, I'd go up to that person and say: 'Ay! You stop ruining our foods, you bastard!' and then I'd kick pumpkin spice in the nuts!" says Eric.

Stan continues, "And most of the time it's not even _real_ pumpkin spice in the foods, it's artificially flavored pumpkin with inferior cheap spice. They're more Red 6 and Yellow 7 than natural pumpkin orange. Hey Kyle," he says, realizing Kyle is now standing there.

"We better x-nay on the pumpkin spice-ay or he'll have to eat with Butters again," says Eric.

"No, it's okay," says Kyle.

"You sure?" Stan asks him.

"Yeah."

"Whut's hup, duwd?" Kenny asks Kyle.

"Yeah, you don't look so good," Stan says to Kyle.

"It's just that … I went to the grocery store yesterday and I … I just couldn't believe how many products now have pumpkin spice in them. It's in our cereals, our chips, our pastries, out cookies, doughnuts, cupcakes, candies, even tampons. They odor was so overwhelming I nearly gagged to death. I mean, I love pumpkin spice, but I had no idea we were so over saturated with it. It's like pumpkin spice re-produces at will. And dude – has it got a lot of will. I even saw pumpkin-spice flavored Cheesy Puffs!"

Eric angrily interjects, "Cheesy Puffs? No! We've made too many compromises already, too many products. They invade out stores and we fall back. Assimilate entire families and we fall back. Not again. The line must be drawn here! This far, _no further!_ "

"I guess. Isn't it a little extreme? It is just pumpkin spice after all," says Kyle.

Stan replies, "That's what people used to say about grown-ups dressing like they're still twenty-one, and now we have Forever 21. I read online companies are considering making pumpkin spice year round!"

"Then how do we stop it?" Kyle asks.

"We find out who's been bringing us all these pumpkin spice products," Stan answers.

"Oh, come on – pumpkin spice products are a secretive conspiracy? Doesn't that sound just a little too Art Bell?"

"Think about it: when was the last time you even saw anybody re-stock any pumpkin spice products?" Stan asks Kyle.

Kyle replies, "I don't think I've seen 99.995% of anything ever stocked, but that doesn't mean its lizard aliens, shadowmen, Bronies, or crab people."

The bus pulls up and they climb in once the door opens.

"Guys, just leave it up to me," says Eric, "I'll ask around school. Somebody's mom or dad stalks pumpkin spice products."

"By 'me' you mean you'll pawn it off on Butters, right?" Stan asks.

"Ay! I work best in a n authoritative delegation mode!"

The school bus drives off.

.

The kids work quietly in class. The school bell interrupts then and they all quickly start packing away items.

Mr. Garrison speaks up, "Remember class: tomorrow I want a five-page essay on why pumpkin spice is so delicious and on important part of our lives. Try to fit in some combination of "cultural' and 'phenomena'."

.

Stan, Kyle, Eric and Kenny grab their lunch trays as they finally near the food station.

"God, look at them" Stan says, referring to the kids at the tables, "they're putting pumpkin spice in their sandwiches now. They don't even do that to detainees in club Gitmo."

"You know what I like putting pumpkin spice in? Trash bags," says Eric.

Butters comes running over, "You guys! You guys!"

"Hey, you can't cut in line," says Craig.

Eric immediately says, "Craig, have you ever eaten your parents before?"

"Okay, okay!" backing off.

"What is it?" Kyle asks Butters.

They move ahead in line to the food station.

"You'll never believe who is – _**AGH!**_ " Butters stops and screams when he sees the angry-looking Muslim chef in black.

"What?" asks Kyle.

"Ah, ah, nothing. Nothing at all," Butters rambles.

Eric says to the chef, "Green bean casserole and a Cinnabon."

"Same," says Stan.

"Vegetable medley," says Kyle.

"Wu wu wuwu wu," Kenny says in a muffled voice.

Butters speaks up, "Um, ah, you know, whatever. Food is good. I like food."

"Silence! I kill y-"

She stops when she sees them all looking at her in surprise.

"I … I kihll servize. I have phlegm stuck in throat."

Butters gets his tray and runs off. They all take their trays after she serves them.

Eric points at her, "Ay! This isn't Fuckistan – I'm watching you!"

They all sit down at their usual table where Butters is waiting.

"Guys! I found out who's behind all these pumpkin spice products."

"Really?" Kyle says, surprised.

Stan then speaks, "I knew it was a plot. Clearly we must be dealing with some diabolical mastermind; a dark overlord of the night. Maybe has a curly mustache. Who is it?"

Butters looks around, then whispers, "Isis."

"Isis?" Kyle says, again surprised.

"The JV team?" Eric comments.

"Oh, come on – a radical Islamonazi terrorist organization is behind ps?" Kyle says.

"Kyle, when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth," says Eric.

"Good God – he's read a book," says Stan about Eric.

"So, if we eliminated everything but a quadriplegic squirrel with three eyes that speaks broken French, does that make it the squirrel?" Kyle asks mockingly.

Eric stops him, "Kyle – Isis is behind pumpkin spice – don't be unrealistic."

Kyle asks, "Wait, wait, wait – _assuming_ Isis is behind pumpkin spice, how do we find then and how do we stop them?"

Stan then answers, "We'll have a sleep over tonight at my place – that way we'll not have to meet up. Once my parents are asleep, we'll sneak out."

"Okay, but we still don't know how to stop them."

"Well, I could bring a nice puree and some seasoned-"

Kyle cuts Eric off, "Cartman, you can't make everybody eat their parents; that's not always the answer to life's problems."

"Okay, okay," Eric says, annoyed.

"Dude – we'll just have to cross that bridge when we get there. In the mean time we got to wean our parents off the pumpkin spice products. But with what?" Stan asks.

"I got it: the pumpkin patch!"

"Good thinking, Kyle, especially since it's making everybody groan."

Kyle then speaks again, "Let's all call out parents. Kenny, you can barrow my phone."

.

Stan walks up to home, having just arrived from the school bus stop. He shuts the door and takes his back pack off.

"Hey, dad."

Randy doesn't answer. Stan sees the back of his father's head, facing him as his dad watches football and sips from his beer hat.

"Dad?" he slowly walks around to face his dad. Randy stares back vacantly, "Ah, what are you drinking?"

"Huh? Oh! Stan. Sorry, I was, ah …" he trails off.

"I asked what are you drinking? You seem kind of out of it."

"Drinking? Oh, just beer, Stan."

"Oh. Okay."

"Pumpkin-spice flavored beer."

" _ **AGH!**_ " Stan runs upstairs.

"I mean, you'd think it would taste God-awful in beer, but it's not _that_ God-awful. Yeah," Randy then burps.

…

Darkness once again starts to envelop South Park. The boys roll out their sleeping bags on the floor of Stan's bedroom.

Sharon cracks the door open, "Good night, boys. Good night, Stanley."

"Thanks, mom."

They tell her good-night as well and she leaves, shutting the door.

Eric says to Kenny, "Look, Kenny," pointing at Stan's bed, "that's a bed. B-e-d. I know being poor you've probably never seen one in person before."

"Fwuk yu."

.

As the boys sleep, except for Kenny, the clock strikes midnight. Kenny awakens to the chime of the old grandfather clock downstairs. He realizes they all forgot to set their alarms and gets up to wake them.

They all sneak out the front door; Stan closes and locks it. As they make their way into shopping areas and outside residential parts, they start noticing an eerie quiet in town.

"It's a little quiet out here," says Kyle.

"Yeah, a little too fucking quiet," says Eric.

"Cops!" Stan says.

They all duct behind some trash cans on the side walk. Kyle peaks out.

"It's officer Barbrady. Whoa – is he dead? He's not moving," says Kyle.

Stan and the trio steps out from behind the cans and Stan walks over and opens the driver's door to feel Barbrady's pulse, "No, I can feel a pulse, but it's really slow. I think he's asleep."

"Lwook ewehr there!" Kenny points elsewhere.

They walk up to the Doritos truck to find the delivery man asleep in the back.

"Asleep, too," says Stan.

Eric yawns, "All this sleepiness is making me sleepy."

"come on," Stan heads into the parking lot of a fairly big grocery store that's open 24/7.

As they make their way into the store, they notice people asleep in their cars, asleep in the parking lot, and asleep inside the stores.

"Pft – if this is what grown-up's do at night – sleep in grocery stores – that's hella lame," says Eric.

"Wait – I hear something," Kyle whispers to them. "Over there," he points.

They stop by the end of an isle where they hear a rustling and peak around the end-cap shelves. There they see an individual all dressed in black, even covering his head except a slit for the eyes, stocking a box marked: **Zest soap. Pumpkin Spice Scented.** They spot an Isis man with an armband with the Isis flag on it.

"Oh my God – it is Isis," Kyle hides.

"I told you," says Eric.

"Shhhhh…" Kenny hushes them.

"He's coming," says Stan.

They hide behind the next isle as the Isis man walks out the isle and toward the front. They watch him leave, but then spot another Isis man finishing stocking pumpkin-spice flavored Tic-Tac's as a register.

They sneak outside as the Isis men crowd into a black pick-up truck with the name Mark-1 Plumbing on the driver's door in white. A couple more are picked up after the truck stops at the end of the parking lot. It then drives away.

"All clear, come on," Stan races into the parking lot hoping to catch a glimpse of where the vehicle was headed.

Suddenly they hear the clock from the town's mayor's office chime from bell cloches being struck. The strikes of the bell finish pounding out twelve hits and cars suddenly start back up around them and people awaken.

"Dude – what the fuck?" asks Stan.

"Oh, man – major nerd boner," says Eric.

Kyle still looks surprised, "Really? Isis? Really?"


	3. Chapter 3

The four of them wait at the school bus stop.

"This is way bigger than we realized," Stan thinks aloud.

"Okay, I'm sorry – I still can't get over the fact Isis is responsible for pumpkin spice," says Kyle.

Eric then says, "You got to face the facts, Kyle: Isis is behind the pumpkin spice craze and putting it in our stores is clearly an act of terrorism. Also, when they come to behead you for being Jewish, you can't stay in my basement."

"Fuck you, Cartman! Those Islamonazi radical terrorists pieces of shit are beheading anybody who doesn't convert to Islam. They're even beheading other Muslims who aren't Muslim enough."

"Guys – I don't even know how to stop them," Stan says.

"Well, we could try loving them and following the teachings of Jesus Christ, our lord and savior," says Kyle.

Stan replies, "Fuck love! They'll behead Jesus, too!"

"No they won't," says Kyle.

"How do you know?" Stan asks Kyle.

"I heard it on Glenn Beck's radio show: they're trying to bring on the caliphate which in turn will hasten and finally bring forth the twelfth imam, which will then finally trigger the holy war across the world. At that point they say Jesus will descend from the Heavens and tell all of mankind Islam is the one true religion and convert to die and then Jesus will help them slaughter 60 to 80% all the non believers, since Jesus, they say, is also a Muslim."

"What … the … fuck?" Eric says in disbelief.

"No, no, no, no, no – we need to talk to Jesus. He'll know what to do about this."

…

The boys stop at a modest house and ring the doorbell. After a few seconds the door flies open.

"Yay! Look upon… hold on," Jesus reaches over and picks his halo up off the stand next to the front door, then places it over his head and flicks it a couple of times with a finger until it glows yellow, "Look upon me, for I am Jesus Christ – your lord and savior."

Stan then speaks, "Jesus, are you going to descend from Heaven one day, proclaim Islam the one true religion, then help then twelfth imam and Islamonazi radicals slaughter all of mankind?"

"What? No. _No!_ That's just crazy shit radical Islamics believe and Islamic clerics like Khamenei say," Jesus replies.

"Oh," says Stan.

Then Jesus continues, "Mankind will slaughter mankind and bring upon the end times as foretold by my father in Revelations."

"That actually doesn't make me feel any better," says Stan.

"How can I help you, my sons?" Jesus asks them all.

Kyle speaks, "Isis is brainwashing everybody and ruining all the food in town with pumpkin spice. What do we do?"

"Beats the hell out of me. Pumpkin spice really isn't my thing; frankincense and myrrh are more my area of expertise. Also paprika."

"Well, what about Isis?" Kyle asks Jesus.

"Um, have you tried loving them like your own brother?"

Kyle answers, "They hug with swords."

"Oh. I guess I'm not much help. But if they ever try to kill you, just pray to me."

"And you'll come and save us?" Stan asks Jesus.

"No, but I will hear your prayer."

"I'd rather be saved from barbaric execution."

"Look, if I save your life, then people will expect me to save all theirs every time. I'm only one Jesus."

Eric chimes in, "How about you just save my life?"

"Don't be a fucking fat douche bag in front of Jesus!" Kyle yells.

Jesus ponders, then says, "Oh, wait – I think I know who you need to talk to."

"Who?" asks Stan.

"The Great Pumpkin … Spice. In the patch on the outskirts of town."

"Thanks, Jesus!" says Kyle.

"Yeah. Oh, could you write a tardy note for each of us?" Stan asks.

"Sure," Jesus waves a hand and four tardy notes magically appear, "Pretty cool, huh? Got it from 'Penn & Teller Fool Us'," he then passes them out.

"Thanks again!" Stan says to Jesus.

They wave bye-bye as they head off.

"Remember my sons: _love!_ "

…

As the boys reach the pumpkin patch field on the outskirts of town, clouds cover the sun and an uncharacteristic fog looms in the afternoon air.

Kyle asks Stan, "By the way, what are you going to go as for Halloween?"

Stan replies, "The Scariest Goddamn thing I know of: pumpkin spice."

They enter the patch and walk further inward for a minute.

"Do you see anything?" Kyle asks them.

"There's too much fog. He has to be here – Jesus said he was," Stan answers.

"Hello?" Kyle shouts out, using his hands as a bullhorn, "Mr. Great Pumpkin Spice? We need to talk to you."

"Hwoo?" Kenny also calls out, in a muffled voice.

"Please, we've come a long way. We have to talk to you about pumpkin spice!" Stan calls out.

They stop once they hear some rustling amongst the pumpkin plant leaves in the patch. Just on the edge of visibility a shadowy silhouette rises.

"Holy shit – it's the Great Pumpkin Spice!" Eric yells.

They move in closer with trepidation and the figure becomes more clear: a humanoid ghost in pilgrim attire and a pumpkin on his head.

"Mr. Great Pumpkin Spice?" Kyle asks.

"Yes?"

"Quickly, Kenny – run over and make sure it's not evil!" Eric says, hiding behind Kenny.

"No way!" Kenny answers in a muffled voice.

"We need your help stopping pumpkin spice," Stan says.

The ghost removes the pumpkin to reveal a friendly-looking although dead man, "Oh – thou welcomes ye young lads to thy homestead. I am Benjamin Emmanuel. Did thou say pumpkin spice?"

"Yes. Can you help?" Stan says.

"Aw, for my ears doth not deceive thee. You have cometh to the righteth placeth. Fore you see: I and only I know how to defeatith pumpkin spice."

"Why only you?" Kyle asks him.

"Because … t'was thee who originated pumpkin spice."

"Huh. Conveniently in our own town," Eric says.

"You see, it was 1621 in the year of our lord and after having shared our harvest with the generous and kind native souls whom kept us from starving at Plymouth during the time of Winter, I took it upon thyself to try various imported spices in the over abundance, to share with my fellow down-trodden brethren and our new-found friends. But alas it was met with much displeasure; yay, fore even when thy putith the spice and pumpkin mixture into other mixtures, the town folk did empty their consumption upon the ground from their mouths and expressed much anger. And for this I was banned from the settlement and forced to find and fend for thyself. The Devil's work they doth named it, yet Jebediah shoved corn and seasoning into the asseth of a turkey and received great praise; mean while they all ate corn from the cooked rectal end of a wild foul. And yetith _**I**_ was the bad guy."

"That's awful. What happened?" Kyle asks.

"Over the years I made my way across the blessed land of our lord and reached the place you now call South Park. I finally reached a habitable area with no violent natives and mountains for protection. But along the way I was cursed by the shamen of various tribes for attempting to share pumpkin spice with them."

"Boring," Eric says while yawning, "is there a Cliff Notes version of this?"

"But eventually one tribe, beseeched with pumpkin spice found me. They promised that if thou cometh upeth with a way to stop the pumpkin spice plague, they would nullify the curses. Gleefully I worked until I finally found it. Once handed over though, the shaman laughed and thus did cast upon thee a curse more powerful than before: I would, in thee event of death, reside in a place of existence neither in Heaven nor in Hell, to warn and help others stop pumpkin spice should it rear its head as it does again every hundred years."

"That's awful," says Kyle.

"Well, pumpkin spice is back. It's in every food product during the autumn time and even in some personal items. And now we know that a group of pure evil people are behind it. We got to stop them. What do we do?" Stan asks.

"Young pious lads, hark – what you seek is a thing: a storage chest ordained in gold and rare gem stones. The Pumpkin Spice Ark of Truth. Inside is the only thing that can stop pumpkin spice and evil men behind itith."

"Wait – about this high and about this big? With weird symbols on it?" Kyle asks, showing with his hands.

"Yes, Her Majesty's royal red," the Great Pumpkin Spice replies.

"You've seen that?" Stan asks Kyle.

"It was on the news. That circus that came into town a week ago has bragged about the mystery box covered in gold and diamonds they brought with them, but they're only displaying it for a few more days and then they said they're gonna box it up and back up into a train car."

"No! If the Pumpkin Spice Ark of Truth is not placed atop a building or mountainous hill by midnight tonight – during a full moon – it will not work until next October."

Kyle asks, "Wait – won't they have already opened it?"

"No. It is sealed by a mystical lock, which can only be opened by a mystical key."

Eric interjects, "Goddamn, how long is this going to take? I got to take a mystical shit."

"Where's the key?" Stan asks.

"In my Bible. Where that may lie now, I knoweth not."

"I got it – the library! I remember hearing old books and town charters are stored there," says Kyle.

"Excellent! Fore if the last vestiges of pumpkin spice were to be wiped from the land, thy cursed self would be free," says the Great Pumpkin Spice.

"We promise to try," says Stan to him.

"I thank thee. By thee by, does one still shove perfectly good harvest up the rectal end of a cooked foul and consume it?"

"Yeah, every November – it's a Thanksgiving Day tradition," Stan answers him.

" **Oh!** That fuckingeth Jebediah!" he slams the pumpkin to the ground and turns and walks away, fading into the fog, then slowly lowering back into the patch.

"Wait, is he just gonna hang around the patch while we do it?" asks Kyle.

Stan answers, "It's his way."

The boys head back out the pumpkin patch and discuss the plans as they head back to school.

…

A fairly large air conditioning duct cover falls to the floor of the darkened South Park library. Stan crawls out on his hands and knees, then gets up and shines his flashlight around.

"Looks clear."

The other three crawl out and stand up, also turning on their flashlights.

Kyle says, "Remember – keep the lights low and out of the windows. The History section should be over there still, come on."

Kyle leads the way as they follow. Eventually he stops and starts searching.

"His Bible is around here someplace," says Kyle.

"Cartman, you do know what a Bible looks like, right?" asks Stan.

"It's a book, right?" Eric replies.

"Close enough," Stan says.

"I wonder where they'll keep all my stuff when I'm dead," Kyle says.

"In a landfill unless you cure cancer or some shit," Stan replies.

"Found it!" Kenny shines his light on the Bible, having opened it up and seeing the name Benjamin Emmanuel written on the inside cover.

"Take it to that table over there," Kyle points and they walk over and stop at the table.

Kenny holds the front and back covers and shakes it vigorously to see if anything drops out. When nothing does, he lays the book down.

"Where's the key?" asks Kyle.

"Well, it has to be there; the ghost of the dead cursed pilgrim who haunts a pumpkin patch told us so," says Stan.

"Here, let me see," Eric takes a hold of the Bible and using a pocket knife he peels away the top paper face of the inner hard cover.

"Cool, a secret compartment," Stan sees a square cut in the cover and digs it out to reveal an old hex key.

"Hum. He was telling the truth. Come on," Kyle pockets the key after closing the Bible, "let's go to the circus."

They freeze when they hear a noise. Stan points his flashlight over toward the noise, but it doesn't cut on. He whacks it a few times to try and make it work.

"Dude – someone's here!" Kyle points.

A man all in black stands on the other side of the wide isle.

Stan speaks, "By the pricking of my thumb, something pumpkin spice this way comes…"

The man walks over, "Then sang the shofars both loud and deep, God is dead and he doth sleep."

Stan replies, "I know who you are. You're the autumn crop. Where do you come from? The ground. Where do you go? The trash."

"Yes, we are the spicy ones. Your torments call us like hungry dogs in the night. And we do stock it, and stock it well," the man continues to approach slowly.

"You stuff yourselves on people's nightmares of pumpkin spice," says Stan.

"And butter our plain bread with delicious pumpkin spice. So, you do understand pumpkin spice?"

"You are known in this town. My dad knows you."

"Your father? The crazy unemployed guy? He likes pumpkin spice. And it has gluten in it."

"That's a lie! He's just confused," Stan rebukes.

"We suck that misery and find it sweet. We search for more, always."

Eric hides behind Kenny yet again and says, "Oh, yeah? Well, you'll never take them alive! Kenny, tell us again how you were saying they were twelfth century cockroaches."

"When everybody finds out Isis or Isile, or Isizzlenizzle is behind pumpkin spice, the West will finally stand up and stop you!" says Kyle.

The Isis man stops, "Islamophobe! You kids will not be telling anyone…" he pulls out a long Arabian scimitar.

They start to run but are stopped by more Isis members with swords.

" _Holy shit, dude!_ " Stan shouts.


	4. Chapter 4

The boys are marched into the Isis circus camp.

Kyle says, "Guys, how do we stop this? I don't think a pilgrim's key is going to be enough."

Eric replies, "Nuke 'em from orbit, it's the only way to be sure."

Stan suddenly recognizes the Pumpkin Spice Ark of Truth nearby and decides to try and distract Isis, "You can't kill all of us. Sooner or later our parents will come looking for us."

The Isis leader stops them and turns to face them, "We do not have to kill all of you. Phlegm. Convert to loving pumpkin spice or we shall kill you. It is your choice."

"Fuck you, I'm not converting," Stan replies.

"Such bravery for such a young age. You will lose it along with your head. And you, orange one?"

Kenny replies, "I like pumpkin spice, but not this much."

"Very well, there are swords to go all around. After all, 'have no unbelieving friend and kill them where ever you find them'. Set up the chopping block."

The other two Isis men walk off for the block.

The Isis leader looks over at Eric, "And you, the hump of a camel – which do you choose? Pumpkin spice or death?"

Eric answers, "You guys can burn all the pumpkin spice down and salt the Earth. Give me liberty or give me death!"

"Very well, we shall give you death."

"When I said 'death', I actually meant more liberty."

Stan continues slowly backing toward the Ark as the Isis leader talks.

"How about you?" he looks at Kyle, "Pumpkin spice or death?"

"Well, I … I like pumpkin spice, but…" Kyle trails off while thinking aloud.

"Come on, come on, it's a simple question. We don't have all night."

"Well…"

Eric comments, "Kyle, will you hurry your Jewish ass up?"

" _ **What?!**_ " the Isis leader bellows angrily. He rips open Kyle's coat to reveal a necklace with the symbol of the Star of David hanging off it.

"Oh, my bad," says Eric.

" **JEW!** " he pulls out his curved Arabian sword.

All the Isis members come running, leaving boxes of pumpkin spice products behind.

"Kill the Zionist infidel!" the Isis leader cries out.

Stan yells out, "Guys, the key! _One potato, two potato!_ "

Kyle hands Kenny the key.

"One potato!" Kyle says.

"Two potato!" Kenny tosses the key to Eric.

Kenny leaps atop Kyle and the blade slams down at Kyle's neck, hitting Kenny's instead.

"Oh, fuck! Three potato!" Eric throws the key to Stan, missing the clutches of an Isis member.

Stan catches the key, "Four!"

The Isis leader lifts his sword back up and turns to face Stan, "What are you doing there?"

"I'm just making a few changes around here," Stan puts the key into the lock.

"Are we sure that's what we want?" the Isis leader asks as he approaches Stan.

Stan replies, "And live in a world with pumpkin spice? I'll take my chances…" he turns the key.

" _ **NO!**_ " the Isis leader slams the blade down, missing Stan, but hitting the Pumpkin Spice Ark of Truth, which falls over onto the back side, knocking the lid open.

The Isis leader quickly raises the sword again to strike Stan, but just as quickly a bright Heavenly white light shoots out, intensely illuminating the midnight sky. It flashes across town, striking the crystal in the rod on Kyle's house and then bouncing at an angle to the rod at Eric's house.

The whole town is lit up in white, shining into the windows of every home and business. Across town, all who are awake stop and look up at the light, transfixed by the enlightenment.

Randy stops sipping the pumpkin spice beer, "This tastes awful. I'd rather have a nice refreshing Zema."

Mr. Mackey stops scrubbing himself in a bubble bath, "Ah, this Mr. Bubbles pumpkin spice stuff really doesn't smell that good, um'kay."

Jimbo stops eating the Keebler pumpkin spice cookies while in a hunter's nest in a tree, "What the hell? Why am I eating this? It tastes like shit!" he tosses the cookies out.

Even cockroaches in the town's dump suddenly scurry away from pumpkin spice food crumbs.

"Kenny!" Kyle yells out.

Stan commands, "Eric, grab one of Kenny's arms and let's get the hell out of here!"

Stan and Eric run as fast as they can with Kyle, holding a lifeless Kenny up. Mean while all the Isis men stare up, eyes locked in a gaze upon the white light, and un-moving.

The Isis leader speaks, "It's like God himself is speaking to me… phlegm…". He suddenly blinks nervously and shakes his head. He grows angry and points his sword up at the Heavens, exclaiming loudly, " **Fuck you, enlightenment!** _I kill you!_ "

Well away from the Isis circus, the boys stop to rest from carrying Kenny. The wind whips around violently.

Kyle cries out, "Oh my God! Isis killed Kenny!"

Stan yells back, "Stop that, do you smell? Stop it. Tears, that's what they like! My God how they like tears! Look, that's no way to save Kenny. Jump around. Whoop and holler!"

Eric says, "You want us to Jazzercise?"

Stan yells, "Look at me. I'm a great whooping crane. Whoop! Whoop! Whoop! Come on, happiness makes them run!"

Eric then says, "Oh my God, it's Welcome to Whoop Whoop."

Kyle says, "Ah, they aren't running _away_ from us!" he points at screaming Isis men running at them from the circus camp.

"Look!" Stan points.

A large circumference tornado touches down from the sky, sending the whole Isis circus camp and all the members tumbling in spirals, up heaving and ripping apart all in the tornado's path.

"Oh, man – not the bumper cars!" shouts Eric.

Every last piece and dismembered Isis member vanishes into the dark sky. The tornado suddenly breaks apart and dissipates, clearing the whole sky of clouds, mysteriously.

"Bitchin'!" Eric shouts.

Suddenly the Pumpkin Spice Ark of Truth hits the ground mere feet from them, coming to a rest top up. The lid falls shut and the key surprisingly remains in the lock.

"Wha…" says Kenny; they jolt their heads in Kenny's direction again after hearing him speak.

"Kenny!" Stan exclaims.

"Kenny, you're alive!" says Kyle, with tears in his eyes.

"But, I saw the sword…" Eric says confused.

Kenny loosens the ties on his orange hood and removes it, exposing his face and showing several layers of scarves wrapped around his heck. He replies nonchalantly, "I was cold."

"Thank God!" Kyle hugs Kenny and then helps him up.

Stan retrieves the mystical key from the lock and in the bright and big full moon of the night, they run back to Stan's house to continue the fake slumber party.

Kyle's voice speaks over the imagery of the four running, "We had freed ourselves of the pumpkin spice odor, and liberated our town. So, on that bright morning the next day we realized we had made a memory that would live as long as people warn other people about pumpkin spice."

 **-THE END-**


End file.
